


Red Eye Baby, I Love You So

by Enk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Jotun!Loki, Jotunn | Frost Giant, M/M, Violence, reluctant reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A battle encounter leaves Tony with a little more than he's bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Eye Baby, I Love You So

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rumpelstiltskinsgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpelstiltskinsgold/gifts).



The wall comes out of nowhere. Well, okay, the Empire State Building has been in its place for... well a while. However, Tony did not expect to be slammed into it on his way home from a gala event for sick children save puppies against global warming or something rather. There had been a few events. Maybe he was a little tired and a little off his game because he did not see the giant robot spider thing until it slammed him into the Empire State Building. Repeatedly. He's not happy when the interface in front of his face flickers. Back-up power kicked in. Great.

 

“Hey guys,” he goes on active comm, “little help!” 

 

 _Transmission Failed_ flashes for a few seconds. He's in this alone then. Fine. He's probably dealt with worse.

 

When he ricochets off another building and through at the very least three solid concrete walls, he decides he will have to re-evaluate his definition of worse. It's some kind of machine thing, but the continuous glow of light and energy surrounding it throws off the scanners and he only gets a vague image of what he's trying to prevent from obliterating Manhattan... again. Rockets have no effect, neither does the laser or the bullets or the missiles. The only thing that appears to have any sort of impact are the repulsors which Jarvis puts a touch out of synch with the light-machine-thing's phase variance. 

 

It doesn't like that at all. The next hit shorts out the uni-beam Jarvis has been readying for a final blow attack. It also takes out the windows of every skyscraper on the block. Tony has to get this thing away from a populated area. He shoots both repulsors at full power. 

 

“You don't like that, do you?” He turns and Jarvis puts all power into propulsion. “Come and catch me!”

 

Over the river, he's gotta get the thing over the river and hope that his continued attempts to signal for help will not go unnoticed. Or really that one of the Avengers looks out the window and follows the path of destruction. If only he can get the thing over the Lower Bay and keep it there. Minimize destruction and maybe figure out a way to how to defeat it in the meantime. 

 

The next blast hits him so hard, the suit hurtles through the air all the way across the river and almost into Jersey. He manages to stop and evade two more blasts but they're back over a populated area. He shoots but the thing evades. The next two blasts take out flight control and the left repulsor. Blast three and four slam him into the nearest roof top. He can feel his ribs crack but he pushes himself back up and takes aim.

 

A flash of light. Pain. Everywhere, so much pain. He can't see. He tries to throw his arms up to protect his face and head, but the pain is overwhelming. He stumbles. Backwards perhaps, maybe forward, to the side, he isn't sure anymore. Nausea and vertigo are overwhelming. The next blast hits his helmet with enough force to knock the faceplate somewhere out of his blurring vision. Tony tries to brace himself, lifts his arm. He can feel the repulsor power up. _Please._ He thinks, he pleads. Just one shot. Get in just one shot to escape. Something doesn't click into place when the shock stabilizers kick in. Tony knows it's wrong, knows it won't work, but it's too late, he can't stop the energy release. He screams when the backlash from the repulsor dislocates his shoulder.

 

Another flash of light, he's hit square in the chest. The metal heats until he can feel it sear through his clothes and begin to scorch his flesh. Tony spits out blood as he stumbles backwards. Power is failing and he can't hold the suit up on his own. Sweat and blood burn in his eyes as he waits for the final blow. This is it. The end. This is how he goes. Destroyed by an unknown enemy on a rooftop in Staten Island. Fantastic.

 

The light intensifies. So bright, Tony thinks it might actually be 'The Light' and he's already dead and just fucking around instead of heading to the peaceful afterlife of liquor and women. The hum and subsequent appropriately laser-y sound tells him that nope, not dead yet. He can't escape though. Sure, time appears to be slowing down as his vision clears. He sees the ball-ray-thing of energy come towards him, but he can't move. He's pinned in place by a malfunctioning suit and a broken body. And even if he makes it, there's no guarantee he will survive his wounds. Does he have any regrets? Should he actually start asking himself such questions?

 

Before he can have an existentialist conversation with himself, the ball of energy hits his suit. Super-heats it. Tony can't muse being boiled alive in his suit. He screams though, every nerve ending on fire. His skin on fire. He can smell his searing skin, his burning hair. A blue flash tackles him to the ground. Is that a snowstorm he can hear? The heat subsides and instead, the world becomes cool, cool enough for him to see his breath. Huh, he's still alive, then. He hears a scream that is not his own. The world is cold now. So very cold. Snowflakes fall from the sky, catching in his lashes, cooling on his hot skin. He looks up at the starry sky. Peculiar snow without clouds. Very strange. He blinks.

 

When he opens his eyes again, the world is warmer and instead of a starry sky, he is looking at the ceiling of his living room. He sits up abruptly, his stomach and body protest with nausea and pain.

 

"Sir, it is unwise for you to get up just yet." Jarvis sounds annoyed. "You are recovering from second and third degree burns covering nearly 51.74% of your body, a dislocated shoulder, three broken and two cracked ribs, as well as countless contusions and lacerations."

 

"It... doesn't feel that bad." Much to his surprise. Tony feels like a truck ran him over but more in the I-have-a-man-cold way rather than the I-almost-died thing that appeared to have happened. 

 

"Indeed." Jarvis is pissed. He doesn't say another word. 

 

"I'm sorry?" Tony gets up, mindful of his limited mobility. "I did try to call for he-"

 

A clanging sound comes from the kitchen. "Bruce?" Tony whispers so quiet even if Bruce was the one in the kitchen, he wouldn't have heard him. "Jarvis, who is in my kitchen?" It's kind of silly to ask because realistically, it could have been any of the Avengers, most likely Clint, having a... midnight snack. They probably rescued Tony from nearly certain death, brought him back, and healed him. There's no reason fro Tony to be suspicious, nevertheless, he is. Jarvis doesn't answer. "Jarvis?" No answer. He takes it back. Plenty of reason to be suspicious now. 

 

As silent as possible, he pulls a bokken from its display case over the fireplace. Sure, it is mostly a glorified piece of wood, but he doesn't have access to any other weapon right now and just walking into the kitchen and going 'sup' doesn't seem like an appropriate choice at this moment. He steps quietly, barefoot, in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, he notices now. Bad time to notice that. He wishes he had pants. Great plan. Great, great plan. He'll definitely escape near death twice in a row within a 24-hour period especially wielding a wooden sword. The bamboo floor boards creek right when he reaches the doorway to the kitchen and the noises stop. Whoever is in there knows he's here. Now or never, he supposes.

 

"Hey!" He jumps into the kitchen, bokken extended in front of him. He expects to be shot, stabbed, punched, thrown to the ground, anything aside from a tall, blue creature bathing his forearms in a sink full of water. He knows those forearms, knows those shoulders, the long raven black hair... "Loki?"

 

Loki startles and despite Tony's previous assessment had not been aware of the man's presence and whips around in surprise, ripping the faucet out of the counter. The water isn't turned off and begins to spray across the room. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Loki hisses. He's incredibly tense and incredibly blue. 

 

“You saved me. And this is you, when you're frost giant, yes? Thor told me about it, but I always pictured it a tad more Avatar than it actually is, I guess.” Words spill from his mouth faster than his brain can catch up to. He's relieved, happy, and feeling a little special to finally see Loki like this. “Are those markings genetically inherited or decorative?” He reaches out to touch Loki's shoulder. 

 

“Do not touch me!” 

 

The energy blast throws Tony across the kitchen and into the fridge door. He can feel the mended ribs crack again and taste the familiar tang of his own blood in his mouth. His head swims and vision blurs again. God dammit, he's not made to be thrown around like a sack of meat. Eventually and despite all magic and technology, this kind of treatment will catch up with him in a gravely permanent manner. He thinks he's verbally communicated his displeasure with the state of things but judging by the concerned look on Loki's face, it probably came out more groany than he'd intended. Something tickles inside his ear. He tilts his head and brings up his hand to scratch when something warm trickles onto his fingers. Tony doesn't need to look to know it's blood. 

 

“Anthony,” Loki kneels beside him. He smells of pines and snow and crisp winter mornings. Tony inhales his scent and moves to lean against him, but Loki moves away. “Hold still.” He holds his hand an inch away from Tony's head, whispering softly. “I just fixed you, you know.” The 'I am sorry' is silent but it's definitely there. Tony knows. Tony always knows.

 

“Pretty sure you also just broke me.” Tony slurs more than he wants to, but the swimming cotton feeling slowly begins to fade away.

 

“Save your breath.” Loki grunts and moves his hand. 

 

So, Tony does, but only because he is distracted by the swirling ridges on Loki's skin. From afar, they could be mistaken for merely patterns on his skin when in reality they were made of intricate and slightly raised tissue growths. He wants to touch them, but Loki's reaction and the fact that the hand that is not quite touching him still feels like an ice pack to the face means that it's a bad idea and should be avoided. Vaguely, he recalls Thor mentioning something about the icy burn of the frost giants. He should have paid better attention, especially considering how long it took Thor to be convinced that Loki had not magicked Tony into having ... feelings... and stuff. 

 

“Your eyes are red.” He states and tries to lean to get a better look at them. There are about a thousand questions he wants to ask Loki about the pigmentation of his eyes, the ridges, what his core temperature is, whether glucose levels play a role in how he keeps his organs from freezing, if his Asgardian form is merely a projection over his real body, how he manages to look so fucking gorgeous even he's ice cold and blue.

 

“Yeah, well...” Loki turns his face away. 

 

Oh.

 

“You don't want me to see you like this.” 

 

“It was not my first choice.” Loki's lips are tight. He is tense again and moves his hand. “A good night's sleep and you will be feeling much better.” Evasion and distraction, both classic Loki techniques in the avoidance of what really is going on and Tony knows them both incredibly well.

 

“You are beautiful.” Tony kind of blurts out before he can think of anything better. 

 

“I really did break your head.” The smile on Loki's face is sad. The chuckle he lets out is full of fear. Fear of rejection stemming from the utter need to belong, to be loved and at the same time being afraid of everything that could ever possibly feel good. Also the very reason Tony loves Loki, even if he's never said it out loud. 

 

“You fixed it though.” Tony smiles triumphant and sure his logic just negated anything that Loki could say to negate him.

 

“Must have missed a spot.” This time the smile is real and fond. If Loki did not want Tony to see him like this, he had ways to preven-

 

“You can't turn back, can you?”

 

“That is correct.” Loki growls. 

 

“Broke your magic, did I?”

 

“Do be aware that if I kiss you, your brain will freeze and shatter in but a moment.”

 

“Duly noted.” Tony shifts and pushes himself standing. “Can I ask you about this form?”

 

“I really rather you didn't.” Without touching, he ushers Tony toward the bedroom. 

 

“So, is the blue pigmentation or lack of Oxygen rich blood to your skin?” Tony reaches for the tablet on his bedroom.

 

“Do not try me, Stark.”

 

“Oh it's 'Stark' again, you must really be pissed to be stuck like this.” 

 

“I do not wish to talk about this.” Loki hisses. 

 

“Okay,” Tony sighs. “You're not ready, I get that.” He doesn't, but he figures it's gotta suck to be stuck the way you don't want to be. 

 

“Thank you.” Loki gestures toward the bed. 

 

“Will you stay?” He slides underneath the covers. He doesn't expect Loki to crawl in with him. In fact, he really rather not seeing as he prefers to not know what it's like to be a Capsicle. Loki looks tired, and when the man opens it gorgeous blue mouth, Tony expects 'No'. 

 

“I will.”

 

Oh. Well, he can certainly live with that. The fatigue comes out of nowhere and despite his best efforts, Tony's eyes fall shut.

 

“We'll talk tomorrow?” His words blur together. 

 

“Yes,” Loki wills the blankets to wrap around Tony and sits on the marble floor beside the bed. “If that is what you wish.”

 

“It's some...thing...I...” He falls asleep before he can finish the sentence.


End file.
